


Smells Like Teen Spirit

by mhunter10



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 06:48:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey is surprised and a little embarrassed to have Ian show up unannounced at his door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smells Like Teen Spirit

Mickey got up from the couch, stopping to shove more food into his mouth before going over to answer the door.

"What?" He said, as he he opened it. He wasn't expecting Ian Gallagher to be standing there looking half-sorry and half-happy. He didn't wait to finish chewing before swallowing hard.

"Hey, Mick." Ian made the corners of his mouth lift in a bigger smile, although he didn't much feel like it. He couldn't get away from his house fast enough, grabbing his jacket and storming out the kitchen door. The walk had cooled him off, but he was still a little shaken. He was glad to see Mickey, though.

Mickey licked his lips and wiped his greasy fingers on his tank. "Uh, you here for Mandy or somethin'?" He turned his head behind him like he was about to call out for her. He didn't actually know if she was even in the house.

"Nah, I, uh...came to see you," Ian said quickly before the older boy could shout. He laughed nervously. "Can I come in?"

Mickey stared at the redhead for a minute, his lip drawn in by his teeth as he thought. He opened the door wider and stepped aside. Ian mumbled a thanks and was already taking his jacket off and throwing it onto the couch when Mickey returned to the living room. He though it was weird that he took his time sitting down, but he wasn't going to say anything.

"You got anything?" Ian turned and asked him, flicking through the channels without looking at what was flashing by.

Mickey scratched the back of his neck and looked away, fiddling with a loose hem on his sweats. "Um, yeah I think so. If Joey didn't take it all..." he trailed off. Ian was staring at him now, running his eyes all over him. Mickey shifted his stance and ran a hand through his messy hair.

Ian chuckled a bit, raising an eyebrow. "You gonna get it or what?"

Mickey sucked his teeth and waved a hand at him before leaving and heading to his room. He closed the door behind him and stood there a minute, looking around his dump of a room. He quickly slipped his dirty tank over his head and added it to the pile on his couch. He picked up a shirt from the floor and brought it to his nose, sniffing at the collar and pits. He wrinkled his nose and threw it back down, grabbing another nearby. That one didn't make him want to pass out, but there was a stain on it. He balled it up and tossed it angrily. He stomped over to his dresser and yanked open the first drawer, pulling out another shirt. This one had at least been laundered in the past year or two. He shoved his head and arms through it, then looked around for a different pair of sweats that didn't look like they would unravel at the first snag. He spotted his gray ones falling between the bed and the wall and snatched them up. He switched pants and decided to keep his feet bare. He quickly hurried to the bathroom and got his hands wet, passing them through his hair to slick it back. He wiped his wet hands on his shirt then cursed. He had already been gone too long for just getting drugs. He grabbed a bottle of cologne Mandy had stolen for Tony on his birthday and sprayed some on himself, choking and spitting when some got too close to his mouth. He took one last look at himself, then went back to his room and grabbed a bong and baggy of weed.

"Took you long enough. Were you growing it?" Ian said when Mickey finally walked back into the room and sat down next to him.

"Fuck off," Mickey said, preparing the bong and finding a lighter on the coffee table. He held them both out to Ian and watched him hold the flame to the base for a minute. He put his mouth to the top and inhaled deeply, pulling the contents of the tube in and closing his eyes. Mickey took over trying to find something on that was going to get really fun after a couple hits. "Why didn't you text?" he heard himself asking without thinking.

Ian's face quirked in confusion, as he blew the smoke from his mouth. He shrugged. "Didn't think of it," he put the bong back up to his mouth and took a smaller pull, "Why?" he asked, letting out his breath.

Mickey didn't say anything for a few seconds, not looking at him. His eyes were fixed on the cartoons in front of him, but his mind was on the boy next to him eagerly getting high for some reason. He looked down at his his hands, noticing the dirt under his fingernails that seemed to be permanent. "I ain't had time to shower or nothing..." Why the fuck did it matter so much? What was he doing, apologizing?

Ian sat looking at him then laughed a little like he thought Mickey might be joking. "Mick, why would I care if you showered or not?" He started to take another hit, but Mickey snatched the bong out of his hand.

"Quit hogging it!" he gritted, lifting it to his own lips and sucking in the drugs. The water gurgled, filling the silence.

"Mick?" Ian asked, trying to get the other boy to look at him.

Mickey finished his hit and blew the smoke out his nose, shrugging and ducking his head. "I don't know, but I ain't apologizing if you can't breathe or whatever."

Ian bust out laughing, probably more fueled by the Maryjane on his brain. "Mickey, what the hell are you talking about? Is this why you changed your clothes?" Mickey looked over at him with wide eyes and turned red. Ian rolled his eyes, "I wasn't even high yet, Mick. I noticed."

Mickey set the bong down and got up, going into the kitchen and grabbing a beer from the fridge. Ian got up and followed him, stopping right behind him.

"Mickey, do you really think I care what you smell like? Did you forget who I was fucking before you?" he laughed, trying to lighten the mood, but Mickey just glared at him and swigged his beer. Ian sighed and put his hand tentatively to his wrist. "I'm just saying that I don't smell like I walked out of an Old Spice commercial all the time...mainly because I use Irish Spring," Mickey tried to hide his smile with an exasperated scoff, "...but I don't care about if you find time to shower or not."

Mickey looked him in the eyes for a minute, thinking about how fucking silly his life was. Again, it was probably just the weed.

"I don't care if you don't care, just don't make a big deal of it," he said as seriously as he could, then, "...and this don't mean you can get away with not showering after all that training and shit."

Ian laughed, rubbing his fingers along Mickey's arm. "Anyway, I'd rather you smell like a bucket of chicken than...," he leaned in and sniffed, "...au du toilet."

Mickey rolled his eyes, sort of missing the redhead's brief closeness because he actually did smell like a lake in Ireland today, and a hint of something else. "It's not pronounced like toilet, stupid. It's French."

"It's bullshit." Ian suddenly got this look in his already glazed eyes. He stepped forward until he was backing Mickey against the fridge, putting one hand to the top and the other on his waist to keep him from ducking away. Mickey barely had enough time to set his beer blindly on the counter before Ian was capturing his lips in a deep kiss, licking and nipping at his lips. Mickey moaned when they broke apart. "I like you clean," he ran his tongue all the way up his neck to his cheek, "...or dirty."

Mickey let out a sound he would only describe as stupidly gay, as Ian started kissing and sucking him all over his face and neck and ears. He ripped both their shirts off then continued down his chest.

Ian moved his hands to cup Mickey's ass cheeks through his pants and groaned. "These are my favorites 'cause they make your ass look fucking hot," he breathed hotly against his neck, squeezing and kneading his butt. He pushed him against the fridge more, hearing magnets fall to the floor. Mickey bucked his hips when Ian thrust his, and wrapped his arms around him to feel the muscles in his back. When he brought his hands lower and to the side, Ian hissed and tensed up.

"What's wrong?" Mickey moved so he could see where his hands had caused pain and saw a red mark that was already starting to bruise in the shape of a fist. He immediately saw red, but he was mad the weed was dulling his anger. "Who?"

Ian shook his head, trying to bury his face in Mickey's neck and continue his kissing. "Just Frank. Don't worry about it," he stuck his hand down the front of Mickey's boxers and started to stroke his half-hard cock.

"No...I'm gonna..I'm gonna..kill.....uhh," Mickey moaned, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the fridge, as Ian's hand quickened. His whole body seemed to be buzzing with the high and Ian's tongue circling the inside of his mouth was making it stronger. "Fuck!"

Ian could tell Mickey was close. He was writhing against him and breathing hard through his nose as they continued to kiss. He had one hand in the hair at the base of his neck grabbing hard, and the other was trying to avoid the hurt area. Ian thanked him by ducking to suck one of his nipples into his mouth and biting slightly.

Mickey whimpered and cursed, as his body shook. It only took two more tugs and he was spilling all over Ian's hand and his boxers. Now those were dirty, too.

Ian pulled his hand out of Mickey's pants and quickly undid his own jeans. He shoved them down with his boxers just enough, grabbed hold of his dick and pumped furiously, using Mickey's cum as lube. Mickey got down on his knees and titled his face up, opening his mouth wide and looking up at him expectantly. Ian gripped the top of the fridge and jerked harder. Seeing Mickey ready and waiting for him made his legs go weak. He fucked into his hand once more and came, aiming his cum onto the other boy's tongue and on his face and neck. He reached down and scooped some from his chin into his mouth, and Mickey sucked his fingers as he swallowed. Mickey stood back up and brought his face to his roughly, kissing him and getting some of it on Ian's face. They couldn't help but giggle into each others' mouths at how ridiculous it was to be covered in cum in his family kitchen. They would need a lot more hits to make leaving some on the floor and fridge for someone to find funny.

"I like smelling me all over you, but I think we both need a shower now," Ian chuckled out of breath, hugging Mickey close to him and filling his nose with his scent. He was gently caressing his back and the spot where the drunken asshole had taken it out on him when he'd interfered with one of his schemes for money. It felt good to have his hands on him.

"The fuck we waiting for then?" Mickey kissed the side of the redhead's neck and his shoulder, before slipping out of his grasp. He grabbed his shirt from the floor and headed to the bathroom with Ian following behind him.

The water was cold as punishment from the city, but that didn't stop them from fucking each other against the tiles.


End file.
